


LAST REBEL ON THE ROAD

by Rebel_Melinda



Series: FULL CIRCLE [10]
Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 21:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17332991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Melinda/pseuds/Rebel_Melinda
Summary: “How about the two of you joining us for an early lunch?” William offered.  “Neither Naomi or I got up early so we skipped breakfast.”  Both Jim and Blair coughed as the statement caught them both by surprise.  Then Jim saw the teasing glint in his father’s eyes.





	LAST REBEL ON THE ROAD

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to OUTLAWS, RENEGADES & REBELS ON THE RUN

_‘Danny Spencer. Beloved son and brother. Taken too soon. 1978-2000’_

Jim Ellison stared at the grey tombstone for several moments. Then he raised his head and looked around the cemetery at the other silent monuments to death. He sighed and looked back at the tombstone in front of him. “Sorry, kid. You shoulda lived longer.” His low voice dripped with weary cynicism. “And your death shoulda counted for a hell of a lot more.”

The tall Sentinel slowly turned and walked away.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Simon Banks drew himself up to his full height and fixed a glare on his face. _‘I’m tired of this nonsense.’_ Taking a deep breath, he firmly spoke. “I think you’ll agree that I’ve given you more than enough time to shape up.” Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “If you’re not willing or able to live up to your potential, then I have no time for you. If you can’t shape up and do your job, then I assure you I can find a replacement so fast it’ll make your buds quiver.”

With one final glare at the offending rosebush, Simon pulled off his heavy work gloves. “I’ve fed you. I’ve watered you. I’ve even babied you and talked nice to you. Now I’m laying down the law.” Putting his hands on his hips, he continued. “Either you start blooming…and I mean blooming **now** …or I’m digging you up and replacing you with an azalea bush!”

“Ummm…Simon?”

Startled, Simon whirled around to see a puzzled Blair Sandburg staring at him. “Sandburg! What are you doing in my backyard?”

“There was no answer at the front door, and I saw your car in the driveway.” Blair eyed the rosebush for a few seconds, then smiled. “Then I heard your voice.”

Simon huffed in annoyance. Pointing a finger at Blair, he warned, “Not a word about this, Sandburg. Not. One. Word.”

“No, sir. Not a word from me. Lip’s zipped.” Blair mimed zipping his mouth shut. “Problems with the horticulture?”

Simon sighed. “This whole backyard is a problem. Every bush started out blooming very nicely, thank you. Then they started dying. Now I can’t even get the grass to grow properly!” He ruefully smiled. “I think I’m fighting a losing battle. I should just dig them all up and put in that pool that Daryl’s been hinting about.”

“Well, far be it from me to deny Daryl a swimming pool, but…” Blair grinned. He walked over and knelt beside the rosebush. Reaching out, he fingered the soil and then a few of the leaves. Glancing at the brown patches of grass in the yard, he frowned. “Done the Ph balance thing?”

“I’ve got a whole storage shed over there with stuff that’s practically guaranteed to correct soil imbalances and make things grow,” Simon snorted. “For all the good they’ve done.”

“Hmm…well, before you start a major backyard renovation project and get Daryl’s hopes up, how about you let me ask my Mom what she thinks?” Blair suggested. He wiped his hands on his jeans and stood. “She’s got a great green thumb. I can’t think of anything that she hasn’t been able to grow.” He glanced up and saw Simon’s expression. “Of course, I mean completely legal substances. Corn. Sage. Flowers. You know, that stuff.”

Smirking, Simon nodded. “Sure, go ahead and get her opinion. With my luck, she’ll probably want to hold some moonlight new-age ritual in my backyard.”

“If so, I promise to make sure all of the nude participants are suitably young, single, and female,” Blair solemnly promised.

“Come on, Sandburg.” Simon turned and walked across the backyard towards his deck. “The least I can do is provide you with some lemonade.”

“Cool.” Blair followed the taller man to the deck at the back of the house. He sat in a comfortable chair as Simon went into the house. Returned a few moments later with a tray laden with a pitcher of lemonade and two empty glasses, Simon set them on the table. “Help yourself.” He sat across from Blair and smiled. “So, what’s this I hear about your mother and Jim’s dad?”

Blair comically shuddered and poured lemonade into both glasses. “Jim and I don’t talk about that,” he admitted. He sat back in the chair and sipped the cold liquid. “Steven, however, is having a field day with it. Calling me ‘little brother’ and asking when the wedding’s gonna be.” He shook his head. “At that point, **everybody** changes the subject.”

Simon chuckled. “I can’t imagine you and Jim haven’t talked about it at all.”

Blair shrugged and sipped more lemonade.

“Okay, Sandburg, out with it.” Simon drained his glass. “You didn’t come all the way to my backyard to discuss my gardening skills or your mother’s involvement with William Ellison.”

Blair sighed and closed his eyes. “How hard would it be to give Jim some serious time off?”

“Define serious time off.”

Blair opened his eyes. “I don’t know, Simon. But more than a couple of weeks.”

Simon leaned back in his chair and quietly studied the younger man. “You’re still concerned about Jim?” he finally asked.

Blair squirmed in his chair. “Jim’s been acting a little off ever since Danny Spencer was killed,” he began. “Then there was that business with the Feds and Eddy Simmons and his nephew. And let’s not forget that we had an international assassin for a while right under our noses and somebody gunning for Jim like it was a scene from some weird-ass spaghetti western!” Jumping to his feet, Blair began pacing.

“I need to know if Jim’s a threat to himself or others,” Simon sternly asked.

“No!” Blair whirled on his heel and stared at the other man. “Absolutely not!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Blair sighed and ran a hand through his curly hair. “He’s not depressed. At least not clinically in the traditional sense. More like he’s cynical.”

“Sandburg, I hate to tell you this, but every cop gets cynical,” Simon grunted. “And I haven’t seen anything in Jim’s attitude or performance that shows me there’s a problem.”

“You aren’t with him when he’s off duty,” Blair muttered. “As long as he’s on the job, he’s fine…except there’s this air of ‘what the hell good is all this doing?’ about him.” He shook his head. “You’re needing something concrete to see and examine, Simon. I can’t give you that.”

“Is this Sentinel related?”

Blair frowned. “I think it’s more Jim related.” He walked back to the table and sat down. “This has to do more with the man and not the Sentinel. Although it’s damned near impossible to separate the two.” He sighed and drummed the fingers of his right hand on the arm of his chair. “We’ll go to a Jags game or out to dinner, and everything seems okay. Or we’ll just chill at the loft. But there’s something just out of my reach, Simon. Something’s off, and I have a bad feeling about it.”

“So you want me to authorize a leave of absence so you can get Jim away from Cascade and figure this out.” Simon refilled his glass.

Blair studied the other man for several moments. “Not gonna happen, huh?”

“Sandburg, I couldn’t give Jim an open-ended leave of absence right now except for a medical condition,” Simon admitted. “We have three conferences, a religious convocation, and two political conventions lined up in the next four weeks. A lot of the participants in those events have received threats ranging from property damage to physical threats to their safety.” He sighed. “When you add the sudden upsurge in criminal activity that we’ve experienced in the last year, we’re stretched thin as it is.” He shook his head. “Unless you give me something tangible that convinces me that Jim is either medically or psychologically unable to perform his duties as a police officer, I can’t give you what you’re wanting.”

Blair slumped in his chair. “I understand, Simon.”

“What will you do now?”

Blair took a deep breath and got to his feet. “What I always do, Simon. Watch his back.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Jim sighed as he closed the door of the loft behind him. Extending his senses, he realized he was alone and relaxed. Too often lately, he’d seen Blair’s eyes watching him and knew it was only a matter of time before his partner confronted him about his recent attitude.

_‘Like I could explain it.’_ Jim snorted as he opened the refrigerator door. He reached for a bottle of beer then hesitated. After a few seconds, he closed his fingers around a bottle of water and closed the door. _‘Sometimes it seems so fucking useless.’_

Opening the bottle and drinking half the contents, he noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. Resigned to the interruption, he walked over and punched the ‘play’ button.

“Jim, this is Joel. I thought I’d get this message to you before it makes the rounds. Neil Ward died in his sleep last night. I know he was a friend of yours, and I’m sorry to tell you the news like this.” There was a moment’s hesitation. “If you need to talk, you know all you have to do is give me a call.” There was another moment’s hesitation, then Joel hung up.

Jim stared out the balcony doors at the bright blue sky. “Godspeed, Neil,” he whispered. Quietly, he walked upstairs. _‘Guess I need to get my uniform to the dry cleaners.’_

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Blair winced when he heard a long mournful howl. Turning, he saw the black jaguar slowly pacing around the Medicine Wheel. Again, the animal raised his head and howled in anguish. He turned his head and saw the silver wolf standing guard at the western side of the Wheel. 

“The west side of the Wheel is the Look Within Place. Introspection.” Blair’s blue eyes narrowed. “Why does it need guarding?”

“You think it does not need protection?” 

Blair turned his head to see the African Shaman standing behind him. He smiled at the tall woman. “Why would it need protection more than the rest of the Wheel?”

The woman snorted. “Have you learned nothing but to ask childish questions?”

Blair’s smile disappeared. “There is a great evil approaching. If the Wheel is eliminated, then darkness and chaos will fall upon the world. The West is being guarded while I’m here so that I have protection, both here and in the material world.” He took several steps closer to the Shaman, his eyes focused upon her. “The Sentinel and Shaman of the Great City have been targeted for some reason. I cannot believe we are the only Sentinel and Shaman who are under attack. But, for some reason, the focus is on us.” He briefly smiled. “The only questions that aren’t childish would be who is behind the threat and how can he be defeated?”

“Or she?”

Blair silently inclined his head in a measure of respect.

The Shaman was silent for several seconds, then she slowly nodded. “You show possibilities.” She glanced at over Blair’s shoulder at the red storm in the sky. “The focus is on the Great City because that is where the greatest evil has chosen to be. If the Sentinel and Shaman fall, then the Great City is lost to the Light.” A brief smile turned her lips upward. “You do not fight this war alone, young Shaman. There are other warriors fighting other battles that are just as important. But there will come a time when you will battle in earnest.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “Even now, your Sentinel is battle-weary.”

Blair turned to face the storm. “He is under attack again?” His blue eyes narrowed in anger.

The African Shaman snorted in derisive laughter. “Young Shaman, the attacks have never stopped.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Blair’s blue eyes slowly opened and he looked around the darkened room. He took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles. The candles on the living room table flickered in the darkness creating an atmosphere of warmth and security.

Blair felt a knee against his left shoulder and looked back to see Jim comfortably slumped on the couch, his head lying on the back of the couch and his eyes closed. _‘He must have come in while I was meditating and decided to watch over me.’_ He fondly smiled.

“You promised you wouldn’t do that if I wasn’t here to guard you,” Jim quietly spoke without opening his eyes.

“Sorry,” Blair apologized. “I won’t do it again if you’ll cut out the lone wolf act.”

“Wolves are your specialty,” Jim yawned.

Blair chuckled and nudged Jim’s knee with his left elbow. “We’ll figure this out,” he promised, stretching out his legs in front of him.

“Neil Ward died in his sleep last night,” Jim quietly spoke.

Blair turned to his left and put a hand on Jim’s knee. “I’m sorry, Jim. He seemed like a good man.”

Jim silently nodded.

After a few moments, Blair comfortably leaned against Jim’s leg. “You’re not alone,” he whispered. “ **We’re** not alone.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

The day of Neil Ward’s funeral was grey and overcast. A chill wind blew in from the ocean making those standing in the cemetery shiver more than once.

As a veteran of over twenty-five years’ service, Neil was entitled to full departmental honors. However, per Neil’s wishes, the ceremony at St. Joan’s Church of Mercy had been brief. The graveside service was equally simple and brief.

Blair stood just behind Jim and to his right during the graveside service. He kept an eye on his friend, worried at the weariness he saw behind the stoic façade Jim presented to the world.

Jim tuned out the words of the officiating priest. For once, words of comfort meant nothing to him. Most of his fellow officers felt it was a shame that Neil had died just after deciding to retire. _‘Any words of comfort are a waste. Neil’s wife and son are already in their graves waiting on him.’_

Jim mentally shook himself even as his silent words echoed in his mind. Needing a distraction, he let his hearing drift past the crowd of mourners.

_‘Oh, William, I’m so afraid that one day I’ll be standing next to Blair’s grave. Or Jim’s.’_

_‘I know, Naomi. But Jim is what he is. I wish it were different…that he was in a safer job. But I promised I would never push him again like that. It cost me too much the first time.’_

_‘And Blair’s just as stubborn as Jim. Maybe more stubborn. And don’t you dare laugh at me. I know my son!’_

Jim started, feeling Blair’s hand on his back. 

“Dial it down, Jim,” Blair hissed in warning.

Jim automatically obeyed, realizing the honor guard was about to fire a twenty-one gun salute in Neil’s honor. He bowed his head when a lone bugler began playing ‘Taps’. _‘You’re right, Naomi. Blair is stubborn.’_

A few minutes later, the crowd began walking away. Jim turned to Blair and quietly spoke. “Our parents are here.”

“Do you know how…weird that sounds?” Blair half-joked.

Jim barely smiled as they turned away from the casket. He saw Simon and Joel Taggart in the crowd and briefly nodded at them.

“I wonder why they’re here?” Blair mused.

“Let’s ask ‘em, Chief.” Jim saw William and Naomi at the edge of the crowd and steered his Guide in that direction.

“Mom! William! We keep seeing you guys at funerals. We gotta change that.” Blair wrapped his arms around his mother who hugged him close to her.

“Dad.”

“Jimmy, I’m sorry about your friend,” William quietly spoke. “Steven sends his condolences as well. He would have been here but he had to fly to New York last night.”

“Mom? Mom?” Blair’s voice was muffled from where Naomi was holding him so close to her.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Naomi smiled as she released him. “You just looked like you needed a hug.”

Blair straightened his jacket, but flushed in pleasure. “Listen, Mom. I promised to ask you to talk with Simon about his garden.”

“Garden? Simon is a gardener?”

Blair gave Jim a look of warning. “You mention that I said this in front of you, and you’re in for a mountain of tests.”

Jim held up his hands in mock surrender.

“He’s having problems with roses and grass in his backyard,” Blair explained. “He said the roses start growing then stop. And the grass is dying out in spots.”

Naomi frowned. “Hmm…that could be a number of things.” She sighed. “I supposed he’s polluted everything with a bunch of chemicals.”

“Most likely,” Blair cheerfully admitted. “Could you give him a call in the next day or so?”

“Of course, I will,” Naomi promised, squeezing Blair’s hand. 

“How about the two of you joining us for an early lunch?” William offered. “Neither Naomi or I got up early so we skipped breakfast.”

Both Jim and Blair coughed as the statement caught them both by surprise. Then Jim saw the teasing glint in his father’s eyes. _‘He and Naomi are good for each other. And they’ll be good to Blair.’_

“Well…uh…sure,” Blair nodded, glancing at Jim.

“You go ahead, Chief,” Jim urged. “I think I’d like a little time alone.”

Worried, Blair stared at his partner.

“It’s okay, Blair,” Jim assured him. “Really. I thought I might drive down to the beach for a little while. Just a little quiet downtime.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at home later,” Blair promised.

“Take your time. Enjoy the lunch.” Jim leaned closer and murmured. “Ask them pointed questions.”

Blair snickered once then nodded.

“Dad, do you mind dropping Blair at home after you eat?” Jim asked.

“Of course not,” William answered.

Naomi walked to Jim and put her hands on either side of his face. Staring deep into his eyes, she whispered, “Please come with us, Jim.”

Jim gently kissed Naomi’s forehead. “I really need to do some serious thinking, Naomi. Alone.”

Frowning, she nodded, then turned away.

“Need to process?” Blair quietly asked.

“Yeah, Chief,” Jim nodded.

“Okay, man, I hear you.” Blair agreed. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“I’ll probably be at the beach for a while,” Jim warned.

“I’ll call you later to see if you want some company,” Blair offered.

Jim nodded and walked away.

“Blair, do you need to go with Jim?” Naomi quietly asked.

Blair frowned. “No, he probably **does** need sometime alone.” He forced a smile onto his face. “So, where are we eating?”

William followed Naomi and Blair towards his car. But more than once, he glanced over his shoulder…watching his son walk away from them.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

_'There’s a grey horse standin’ still_  
_As a soldier climbs in the saddle for one last ride_  
_The rain pours off his hat_  
_You can see the shadows of the past written in his eyes.’_

Jim pulled the brim of his Jags’ cap down further over his eyes as he slammed the passenger side door of the truck. He quickly walked through the drizzling rain around the truck and climbed behind the wheel. He shut the door behind him and quietly sat for a moment.

Jim glanced at the packed bag on the passenger seat and sighed. “A coward’s act,” he muttered. Wiping his face, he refused to acknowledge that the rain on his face was mixed with tears from his eyes. “No, not a coward’s act. Just what I have to do.”

It had taken a few hours for him to come to his decision. It had taken equally as long for him to realize that there were no **good** choices to make.

Hands shaking, he slid the key into the ignition. A few moments later, Jim drove away from Prospect Avenue.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Barely thirty minutes later, Blair quietly opened the front door of the loft and then closed it behind him. “Jim?” Frowning when he heard no answer, he flipped on the light in the kitchen. Then he froze when he saw several items sitting on the dining table.

Jim’s primary and backup guns. Jim’s badge. Two envelopes. One sheet of paper.

_‘Now the cannons are silent_  
_His friends are all gone_  
_Gotta put it all behind him_  
_He’s the last rebel on the road.’_

“Jim!” Blair angrily yelled even though he knew he was alone. He quickly walked to the table and picked up the sheet of paper.

“Ben Sarris. Jeffrey Kramer. Enrique Cortez. Greg St…these are the guys from his unit in Peru,” Blair whispered. Despite himself, he looked around the loft, desperately wishing for Jim to appear and explain. Then he looked back at the paper in his hand. “Jack Pendergast. Danny Choi. Lila…Alan…Veronica…oh my god…these are people who have died…damn it, Jim, you are **not** responsible for these deaths!”

He ignored the envelope with Simon’s name on it, realizing it was Jim’s official resignation. Instead, he grabbed the envelope with his name on it and tore it open.

_‘Blair. I’m sorry. I just can’t do this anymore. Get away from Cascade. As far away as you can. Take Naomi with you. Try to convince anybody you care about to get away as well. What you’ve seen in your dreamscape is only the beginning. You need to find a safe place to help people survive. Jim.’_

“Son of a…stubborn…bull-headed…I swear to God, Jim Ellison, if you’ve held out on me about having visions, I will personally….do something horrible to you!” Blair angrily stuffed the piece of paper back into the envelope and threw it on top of the dining table.

Furious, he took a deep breath and tried to figure out where to start looking for his partner.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“If we had known it was going to open up and rain, we could’ve gone somewhere else for an early dinner,” Serena Chang humorously spoke.

Joel Taggart grinned in response. “But then we wouldn’t have had that excellent lobster dinner.”

Serena shook her head. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into riding ninety minutes to eat a meal.” Her dark eyes twinkled with mirth as she stared at the man driving the car.

“But it was worth it,” Joel complacently nodded.

Serena laughed. “Yeah, it was,” she admitted. “But next time, let’s try something a little closer.”

_‘Yes! She said next time!’_ Joel happily nodded. “I just thought that with Neil’s funeral today it would be nice to get away from Cascade.”

Serena’s smile faded. “I never met him, but I understand he was a good man.”

“He was,” Joel nodded. “I only knew him slightly, but no one had a bad word to say about him.”

Serena didn’t point out that only someone with a death wish would have bad-mouthed a dead cop on the day of his funeral.

“Serena, is this the best exit to get you home?” Joel asked, breaking the sudden silence.

The forensics scientist nodded. “It takes a little longer, but the road isn’t as narrow or winding,” she explained.

Joel exited the highway and slowed for a traffic light. As they sat at the light, he turned to Serena. “How about din….Good Lord! Was that Jim?”

Both Joel and Serena stared at the rapidly fading truck that was traveling at a high rate of speed down the two-lane road.

“It looked like his truck,” Serena slowly admitted. She turned her eyes to study Joel. “Did you see Blair?”

“No,” Joel grimly shook his head. He reached into his pocket and handed his cell phone to Serna. “Call Blair’s cell. He’s number 4 on the speed dial.” Checking carefully for traffic, he turned left and began following the path of the truck. 

“Maybe Jim took some time off,” Serena suggested, holding the cell phone to her ear.

“Then Blair would’ve been with him.”

Serena held the phone out to Joel. “It’s ringing.”

Joel took the phone just in time to hear Blair answer.

“This better be you, Jim.”

“Blair, it’s Joel.”

“Joel, listen, I can’t talk right now.” Blair ran a hand through his curls as he held his cell phone in left hand.

“It’s about Jim. We just saw him,” Joel interrupted.

“Where?” Blair started for the front door.

“On Route 58,” Joel answered. “Heading west.” He hesitated. “He was driving pretty fast.”

“He’ll need to drive fast when I catch up to him,” Blair muttered. Ignoring the elevator, he began pounding down the stairs.

“Hang on, Blair.” Joel braked at an intersection. He irritably looked both left and right. “I’ve got a problem. Route 58 ends at State Route 4. I can’t tell which way he’s gone.”

“What’s in that area?” Blair asked as he ran across Prospect Avenue to his car.

Joel frowned in thought. “Going south will eventually get you to Crescent City. There are some fishing camps in the area. North will take you to Canyon. Not much up there.”

Blair started the engine of his car and checked for oncoming traffic. Then he stopped, a faint memory trying to work its way to the surface.

“Blair? You there? Want me to head south?”

“Uh…yeah, go ahead, Joel. I’ll go north.” Blair nibbled his lower lip. “Stay in touch. And, thanks, man. I mean it.”

“I’ll call you, Blair.”

Blair closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Where have I heard Jim talk about Canyon?”

_‘C’mon, Chief. Rise and shine. We’re here._

_Where’s here, man? Jeez, it’s barely daylight._

_The sun’ll be up in a few minutes. We’ve got a plane to catch._

_Jim, when you said we were going to visit your cousin, you never actually said where your cousin lives. Just where are we goin’ anyway?’_

Blair’s blue eyes flew open. “Canyon has that small airstrip we used to get to Rucker’s. He’s gone to Storm Island!”

Tires squealed as Blair gunned the car’s engine. “But just in case, I’ll let Joel go to Crescent City.” He grunted. “Jim, you better hope Joel finds you before I do.”

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

_‘Keeps to himself but everybody takes him wrong_  
_But he carried on, got a dream that will never die_  
_Now he’s rollin’ down the highway_  
_Gone too far too fast_  
_No one will ever find him_  
_He’ll never look back.’_

Jim slumped down in the seat as the pilot taxied towards the runway. Despite himself, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Blair hadn’t shown up to stop him. He closed his eyes in weary defeat. “This is the only choice,” he muttered.

He never opened his eyes as the plane’s tires left the ground.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

Blair’s car fishtailed as he slammed on the brakes. Jumping out of the car, he stared in furious anguish at the plane disappearing over the water. “Jim, come back here!” he futilely screamed.

_‘There’ll never be another like him_  
_He’s the last of dyin’ breed_  
_And he’s all alone – His friends are all gone_  
_He’s the last rebel on the road.’_  
  
  
((Lyrics for _‘The Last Rebel’_ by Gary Rossington, Johnny Van Zant, Robert White Johnson & Michael Lunn. Song found on Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Endangered Species CD.))


End file.
